When They Were Young: When Joe Met George
by Vee22
Summary: Seven-year-old Joe Hardy meets a girl who can swing higher than he does AND beat him in football. Ten years later, they unexpectedly meet again.
1. Footy in the Park

When They Were Young.

**A/N: I was trying to write Chapter Six of Danger Down Under, when suddenly this idea came to me instead. A story about George and Joe meeting in Bayport when they were kids. I have ideas for several other one-shots featuring our favourite detectives and sidekicks as children. Is this a one-shot or a series? Your reviews will decide.**

"Frank! Come and play football with me!" called seven-year-old Joe Hardy, as he impatiently kicked his Nerf football back and forth.

It would've been a perfect Sunday afternoon if only gloomy grey clouds hadn't been looming overhead, ominously supporting the weatherman's prediction of showers and possible thunderstorms. Unlike many children who would have chosen to spend the afternoon indoors watching cartoons, Joe had asked his Aunt Gertrude to take him and Frank to Bayport Park. No, asked was not the right word. He had begged, coaxed and cajoled. And although Aunt Gertrude had firmly refused at first, Joe's pleading blue eyes and hopeful smile had won her over.

So, here they were in Bayport Park. Aunt Gertrude was sitting on a park bench, reading a novel. And much to Joe's disgust, his brother was curled up on the bench next to Aunt Gertrude, deeply engrossed in a book of his own.

"Frank, we're at the park! Why are you reading? Come and play with me," Joe exclaimed, running to his older brother and tugging at his arm.

Frank barely looked up from his book as he replied, "Just let me finish this book, Joe. The detective's almost solved the mystery and I have to see if I was right about who the killer was!"

Joe rolled his eyes. His brother was such a geek. _Who came to the park and did nothing but read a book?_ His eyes fell on his Aunt Gertrude, who was turning a page at that very moment, as if she had read his mind. _Who came to the park and did nothing but read a book, when they were only eight years old?_ he amended hastily. However he knew there was no use in continuing to pester Frank. Although he didn't understand why, his brother had never been charmed by his smile and puppy-dog eyes in the way that his mother, aunt and female baby-sitters were.

Sighing, Joe decided he'd rather go on the swings instead, as playing football alone wasn't much fun. There was only one unoccupied swing left and he ran towards it. However, he was severely disappointed when a young girl with short dark curls slid into it seconds before he reached it.

"Beat you," she said mischievously, as she merrily began to swing.

"Yeah, you did," Joe admitted in defeat, as he watched the girl swing. He was impressed as she began to swing herself higher, higher than even he might have dared to swing. She didn't look much older than him and plus she was a _girl_.

"I'm Joe," he said politely, remembering how Aunt Gertrude always introduced him to other children at parties.

"I'm George," she replied breathlessly, as she pumped her legs energetically and managed to swing even higher than before.

Joe laughed. "Your name can't be George! That's a boy's name and you're a girl," he said teasingly.

"So what?" she said challengingly. "My dad always says I'm better than a boy any day. So why can't I have a boy's name, if I want to?"

Joe frowned as he tried to follow George's logic. "So you're better than a boy, but you want to be a boy," he said finally.

George screwed up her nose, as she then tried to figure out if that was what she had said. "Boys get to do things that girls don't," she said eventually. "So I wish I could be a boy."

"Like what?" Joe asked, as he racked his brains trying to think about what boys got to do that girls didn't.

George frowned and looked into space for a moment, as she continued to swing. Then she suddenly noticed the object that Joe was still clutching and her eyes brightened.

"Like play football," she said with a grin.

"Girls can't play football!" Joe exclaimed in surprise. But even as he uttered this statement, he was already wondering if it was true. How would he know whether girls could play football or not? He'd never seen one play, but did that mean that they couldn't?

He glanced up at George again, only to see her glowering at him.

"Says who?" she said defiantly. "My dad taught me how to play football and I bet I can play just as well as you."

She then gave him a scathing head-to-toe once-over. "Actually," she said cheekily, "I bet I can play _bette_r than you. I'll bet you that football against my watch." She held up her left wrist and showed off the fancy yellow digital watch that she wore.

Not really believing her, but accepting the challenge simply because he wanted someone to play football with, Joe grinned broadly. "OK, then, let's play and see!"

It was a fast-paced game and Joe was surprised at how agile and quick George was. He began to lose track of the number of times that she darted past him and when she had scored six touchdowns to his one, he finally had to admit that she was a far better player than he was. Being an honest boy, he told her so.

George's eyes gleamed in triumph as she held out her hand expectantly. Joe looked regretfully at his most prized possession and with great reluctance, handed the football to George.

They'd finished their game at just the right time, because a mere two minutes later, Aunt Gertrude was calling Joe's name. Teardrops of rain were starting to fall and she wanted to get the boys home before it began to pour.

"Thanks for the football," George said, suddenly shy, as she gently cradled the football as any other little girl might have cradled a baby doll.

"You're welcome. You deserve it," Joe said honestly. He hesitated before asking, "Will you come back to this park next week? We can play football together again."

Genuine disappointment flooded George's brown eyes as she shook her head. "No, I'm only here for the weekend. My mum and I are only here on holiday."

Joe was surprised to find himself disappointed too. "Oh, well, it doesn't matter," he muttered, glancing at the ground.

George looked at him with an expression akin to sympathy, as she linked Joe's disappointment to the loss of his football. Suddenly her eyes lit up and Joe looked at her in bewilderment, as she carefully took off her digital watch and laid it in his palm.

"It's my present to you," she said quickly. "You're the nicest boy I've ever met."

With that as her parting comment, she suddenly flushed and ran away from him, towards a tall woman with dark curly hair, whom Joe assumed was her mother.

They got into a white Toyota and drove away, as Joe stood and watched them.

"Joseph Francis Hardy, what are you doing standing out here in the rain? You're soaked!" Aunt Gertrude exclaimed, as she quickly hustled Joe under her umbrella. Frank was already standing obediently outside her car.

For the first time, Joe realised it was _really_ raining and hastily put his hand over the digital watch he proudly wore, hoping that it was waterproof.

But even if it wasn't, he knew he'd always keep this watch as a memento of his new friend, George. He hoped she'd always keep the football too.

**What do you think? Review and let me know. =)**


	2. Ten Years Later

**A/N: For those of you who asked for a reunion between Joe and George when they were older – here it is! I hope you like it.**

**Thanks to my wonderful beta reader ariandula for helping to edit this. I claim responsibility for any mistakes you may find in my revisions.**

**And thank you to the reviewers – Me, franknjoe, missy, KennaC, Silver Ash, Agent Striker, funfanfic and Aphrodite2. This chapter is dedicated to you!**

_**Ten years later...**_

"Don't you dare deny it, Bess Marvin! Nancy already spilled the beans. I can't believe you set me up on a blind date!" George Fayne grumbled. Her curvy cousin had the grace to look sheepish.

"But you haven't been on a date since you broke up with Ryan and that was almost four months ago," she protested. "Besides, this is our senior prom. You need a date for this. I think it's written in fine print on the prom tickets."

"What happens if I show up without a date? Will Miss Prom-Queen-Wannabe Suzanne Hampton have a heart attack?" George retorted cheekily. She grinned. "That's all the more reason to show up solo."

"Oh, come on! It's only for one night and if you don't like the guy, you'll never have to see him again," Bess pleaded. "I hear he's really cute."

"How could you possibly know that? Did the guy himself say he was cute? Because that would be a _major_ turn-off for me."

"No, but my friend Callie from Bayport says that he is and she's dating his brother, so she should know," Bess said airily.

"How do you even know Callie, anyway?" George asked suspiciously. "How do you know she's not setting me up with a psycho killer?"

Bess laughed. "Remember the summer I decided that I really wanted to become an actress? I think we were ten at the time."

"After three weeks of incessant whining, Aunt Anna finally agreed to send you to those drama workshops. Of course I remember."

"Well, I met Callie there and we hit it off. We actually exchanged addresses and became pen pals. Since then, we've graduated to phone calls, emails and Facebook. Did I mention that her boyfriend's hot? So she's obviously got good taste."

"Bess, after all the cases we've been on with Nancy, you should have learned that hot guys can be crazy murderers."

Bess ignored George's sarcastic comment. "She's the one who mentioned Joe was coming to River Heights for the weekend. He and his brother are detectives and he's just tying up the loose ends of a finished case. But he has a couple of days to kill and he needs someone to show him a good time."

"I don't think going to River Heights High School's senior prom was exactly what he had in mind," groaned George. "And going to the prom with a blind date from Bayport who's _younger_ than me wasn't on my mind, either. If he's a detective, maybe you should've fixed him up with Nancy."

"I think Ned would have a problem with that. Besides he's only one year younger than you. That's _nothing_," Bess said confidently. "Look at Ashton Kutcher and Demi Moore – now, _that_ is an age gap I would be worried about."

Realising that she wasn't going to win this battle, George sighed and tuned her cousin out, as she began talking about dresses, hairstyles and shoes. She was _not_ looking forward to prom night.

**

"Callie, are you sure this is the right thing to do?" Frank Hardy asked hesitantly. "I know it's been a while since Iola died, but I don't know if Joe's ready to start dating again."

"This isn't dating. It's just one blind date with a girl he never needs to see again after prom night," Callie said calmly. "You can't get more low-pressure than that."

She observed the concerned look in her boyfriend's dark brown eyes and knew that he needed more reassurance. She reached out and tenderly took his hand in hers.

"No matter how much Joe and I might fight sometimes, I love him as though he was my own brother," she said gently. "I promise you, if I thought this would be harmful for him, I'd be the first one to try and stop it. But I think it'll actually be something positive for him. If his blind date turns out to be a disaster, at least he'll have something to laugh at and tell us about, when he comes home."

Frank visibly relaxed, his hunched shoulders lowering slightly. "You're right," he agreed. "Maybe a blind date in River Heights is just what Joe needs."

**

"I am _not_ wearing pink," George said firmly. She ignored her cousin's puppy-dog eyes and hung the pink satin gown back in Bess's wardrobe.

Bess sighed heavily. "Why do brunettes never appreciate the value of pink?" she moaned. "I love it, but it's so hard for a blonde to wear pink without looking too..." She hesitated. "Too Elle Woods."

"I'm with George – I don't want to wear pink, either," Nancy piped up, her eyes twinkling. "But luckily for me, you've already decided that pink clashes with my hair color."

The three girls had decided to forego buying brand-new outfits for the prom, as Bess's closet offered far more variety than the formal wear shop at the River Heights Mall.

"Now, this would look good on you, Nan," Bess murmured, holding up a strapless turquoise dress. Nancy obediently took it and put it on. It was definitely the perfect dress for her. The turquoise shade made her eyes appear an even deeper blue and looked great against her reddish-blond hair.

"After trying on seven different dresses, I think this is finally the right one," she remarked, doing a little twirl and admiring her reflection.

"And my dear cousin, I think this would look good on you," Bess said suddenly, producing a cream-colored silk sheath that had been hidden right at the back of her wardrobe.

George looked sceptical. "I'm not a bride or an elderly woman and I doubt anyone outside of those two categories actually wears cream."

Nancy studied her thoughtfully. "I don't know – I think it could work."

Realising that argument was futile, George sighed and allowed her two best friends to zip her into the dress.

To her surprise, it really did look good. The light shade of cream which blended in too much with Bess's blonde locks was actually the perfect contrast to George's dark curly hair and the color made her complexion glow.

"That's perfect," Bess said in satisfaction. "Now let's get started on your make-up."

**

_What am I doing here? _Joe Hardy wondered. He couldn't believe he was spending his weekend away from home playing escort to a complete stranger. When Callie had first brought up the idea, he had been horrified and hadn't been afraid to verbalise his feelings. Joe was no pushover. However, Frank was on Callie's side and had persuaded his younger brother that a blind date couldn't really do him any harm.

"Come on, Joe. You'll wrestle a gangster holding you at gunpoint, but you're too chicken to take an 18-year-old girl to her senior prom?" The word _chicken _had gotten to Joe, just like Frank knew it would.

"Who are you calling a chicken? Of course I can do this," Joe had spluttered hotly. Before he could take it back, Callie had called her friend in River Heights and told her that Joe was up for it. _It was too bad that Frank had chosen to follow in their father's footsteps and be a detective. He would've made a damn good lawyer._

He scanned the hall for any sign of the girl he was supposed to escort. He had talked briefly to Callie's friend Bess and had been told she'd be wearing a cream dress. There were plenty of dresses in varying shades of pink and blue, a few which were black and even one that looked tie-dyed. But he didn't see a cream dress anywhere. At least he didn't think he did. He wasn't entirely sure what kind of color cream was. Was it anything like whipped cream?

The hall was decorated with silver streamers, large pink and red cardboard hearts, and pink balloons. When Joe had come in, he'd been told that the prom theme was "Sweethearts." _Could this be any cheesier? _Joe thought mockingly. This was the first prom he'd ever attended and he sincerely hoped Bayport High's prom wouldn't be anything like it. Then he sighed nostalgically, as he suddenly remembered a conversation that he and Iola had once had...

"_Joseph Francis Hardy! I can't believe you're skipping out on our spring formal," Iola exclaimed, hands on her hips. "Are you sure you're not just trying to avoid wearing a tux?"_

"_Baby, it's a case in the sweltering hot Sahara Desert. Trust me, if I had a choice, I'd pick you and having to wear a tux to the formal any day," Joe reassured, planting a tender kiss on his girlfriend's forehead. He paused for a moment. "Well, maybe I'd just pick you."_

_Iola smiled, but he could tell that she was disappointed. "I know you don't have a choice," she said softly. "But I was kind of looking forward to the whole formal thing – the corsage, dressing up and spending the night dancing with you."_

"_Hey, there's always the prom," Joe said gently. "And I'm promising you right now; I'm going to be there for it. Cross my heart and hope to die." He crossed his fingers and held them up for Iola to see._

_She smiled again- a real smile this time. "You won't skip out?" she said teasingly. "You promise you'll be there?"_

'_I promise," Joe said sincerely, as he wrapped his arms around Iola. _

Joe cringed at the memory. He wished that he'd known that Iola would never make it to their prom. He hadn't skipped out, but she had – she had been killed in a car bomb intended for him. If only he had known that then. He would gladly have given up the Sahara Desert case and proudly taken his girlfriend to Bayport High's spring formal, no matter how cheesy it might have been.

"Want a drink?" a female voice murmured, and Joe snapped back to reality. A pretty brunette was smiling at him and holding out a cup of punch. "Uh, no, thanks. I'm waiting for my date," he said quickly.

"Well, if she stands you up, just let me know," the brunette said cheerfully and winked at him, before moving off.

Joe was grateful for the sudden interruption to his thoughts. Sure, Iola might never get to attend her prom and he couldn't do anything about that. But he _could_ make sure it was a special night for his date.

He glanced around and scanned the hall once more. Just as he was thinking they should have agreed on a meeting spot, he felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. There stood a tall, slender girl with long, dark curling hair, wearing a cream silk dress. She smiled tentatively at him. "Are you Joe?"

**

When the guy nodded, George was extremely relieved. She hadn't been told what her blind date looked like – well, except that he was really cute. But since Bess and she often differed on the definition of cute, she really hadn't been sure if this had been the right guy. She'd just noticed he was (a) a stranger and (b) standing on his own. Perhaps Nancy's detective skills were finally rubbing off on her. But now that she'd found him, what happened next? She frantically tried to remember what Bess had told her.

"Make sure you compliment him," Bess had advised. "Tell him he has a nice suit or nice shoes or something."

George quickly looked at Joe, but somehow couldn't compliment him on his suit or shoes. It would feel a bit phony, considering that she didn't know anything about fashion. Then her eyes landed upon his wrist and she realised there was something she could compliment him on.

"Awesome watch!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. "It's a Ferraro Winton, right?"

Joe looked at her with interest. "Yeah, it is," he said, smiling. "I'm impressed. I didn't think girls knew anything about sports watches, especially since this design went out of style ages ago."

"Are you kidding? I love sports watches! I actually used to have one of those when I was younger, but I gave it away."

Joe laughed. "People must love giving these watches away. Mine was actually a present too."

"George! Hey, George! Oh, good, you finally found Joe," Bess exclaimed, as she headed towards them. "I just wanted to check everything was okay."

George cringed slightly, knowing that the real reason Bess had come over was to check out her prom date. From the grin on her face, George knew that her cousin approved.

"Joe, this is my cousin, Bess," she said apologetically.

"Hi," Bess said, flashing Joe one of her charming smiles. But Joe didn't seem affected by it. Instead, he was looking at George, with a puzzled expression in his blue eyes.

"George? I thought Callie said your name was Georgia," he said cautiously.

She flushed at the sound of her real name, which she hated with a passion. "It is," she muttered. "Long before naming kids after the cities they were conceived in became trendy, I was born in Georgia and my parents decided to name me after it."

"So why did your cousin call you George?" Joe asked. It was a perfectly innocent question – the kind of question she'd had to deal with all her life. But for some reason, she sensed more than idle curiosity in Joe's eyes. He genuinely seemed like he wanted to know.

"Well, I hate being called Georgia. I've had people call me George since I was young."

"Fair enough, but why would you want to be called George? Why not Gia or something more girly sounding? George makes you sound like a guy." Joe persisted.

George sighed, as she prepared to recite her standard answer. "Because my dad always said I was better than a boy any day. So, why..."

"..Can't you be a boy, if you want to?" Joe finished her sentence with her.

She gaped and stared at him. "How did you know what I was going to say?" she asked softly.

Joe smiled broadly. "You mentioned giving away a Ferraro Winton when you were younger. Well..." He held up his wrist.

"Oh, my gosh," George breathed, as the childhood memory suddenly resurfaced. She remembered making a bet with a little blond boy, playing football with him and finally giving him her watch. "That was you?"

"Yep, it was," he confirmed, his blue eyes twinkling.

George was momentarily speechless, but eventually managed to speak again. "Sorry about taking your football," she murmured. "I know how much it meant to you."

Joe laughed. "No need to apologise. You won it fair and square. Anyway, it was my birthday a few weeks later and my uncle gave me a new football. So I think I actually got the better part of the deal."

**

"I can't believe you met your prom date ten years ago!" Nancy exclaimed.

Prom night was over and the girls were sleeping over at George's house. Her parents were out of town that weekend, so the girls had the house to themselves.

"Was he already good-looking back then?" Bess asked dreamily.

George closed her eyes and pictured the little boy she had met in the park. Even as an eight-year-old who thought that boys were annoying, she'd already noticed his intensely blue eyes.

"Yes, he was," she admitted. "But don't start planning any weddings, Miss Marvin. He's a wonderful guy, but I don't think we have any chemistry. I have a feeling we'll be staying in touch as friends, though. He's asked me to visit him in Bayport next month. He said that I could bring you two along, as well."

"Awesome! I've never been to Bayport, but Aunt Eloise has mentioned it before. She says it's a nice town," Nancy commented.

"Sounds great," Bess agreed. She yawned. "Well, I hate to be a party pooper, but I think we need some sleep. Good night, girls."

"Good night."

"Good night. Sweet dreams."

When she was sure that Bess and Nancy had already fallen asleep, George snuck out of the living room where they were camped out in sleeping bags, and stealthily crept upstairs to her bedroom.

Once inside, she opened her bottom desk drawer and rummaged amidst a pile of junk before she found what she was looking for and picked it up. In her hand was a deflated football.

There hadn't been any romantic sparks between her and Joe, but she somehow knew with certainty that in him she had made a friend for life.

She couldn't believe that he was still wearing the watch she had given him ten years ago. In all honesty, she couldn't believe that it actually still worked. But even if it stopped working, she hoped he'd always keep the watch as a symbol of their friendship. She knew she'd always keep the football.

**I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you liked reading it too! Let me know what you think of it. =)**

**Also – who should I write about in the next instalment of When They Were Young? It won't necessarily relate to this story. I'm thinking Bess and Chet, but I'm open to other suggestions. Review and cast your vote! **


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